


Her Place

by theangrywarlock



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, M/M, Other, femmeslash time, heavily AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 11:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangrywarlock/pseuds/theangrywarlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Fantine/Musichetta. A quiet talk leads to kissing and finally to the bedroom. Heavily AU in that Fantine was reincarnated in time to be recruited into Les Amis. It's part of an AU-verse created by myself and several friends. Because everyone who's awesome deserves to be a part of this group!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Place

Learning the politics of the group was easy. Learning the complexities within the group took some time. Fantine, all too aware of the consequences of sex, was careful with the group at first. They were all young men, and she had worried about the flirtations that would sometimes come her way. Not that they would try anything without her express permission, but she was still looking for a place within the circle of friends. All too aware that she was a newcomer to them, she knew that while she was treated like an equal, some friends just developed into smaller groups. It was the natural thing to do.

Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac normally had their own table. Joly and Bossuet kept Grantaire company. Bahorel, Prouvaire, and Feuilly would move from one section to the other depending on news they brought or if they felt like socializing. Courfeyrac seemed to have his ear on everything and would involve himself into conversations across the room if he felt up to it.

Fantine strayed mainly to the political side of things, and she felt more comfortable around Enjolras and Combeferre whenever she felt especially vulnerable. Combeferre never flirted and she was fifty percent certain that Enjolras wasn't aware that she was a female.

Joly had spoken to her about that particular bit of information. "Don't take it personally," he had said. "It took him a few months to realize that Musichetta is female. If it doesn't concern the Republic, it goes in one ear and out the other."

Musichetta, the young mademoiselle who had been present with Joly that day, only laughed it off. She took Joly's arm, gave a wink to Fantine, and departed with him.

The wink opened up the possibility of a friendship to Fantine. The only other female who had entered the group was Louison and her role seemed more cut and dry than actually being a member. Fantine had not asked Musichetta for help. That irked upon her pride, that she would need aid from anyone on such petty things as merely sitting in with the Friends of the ABC. Perhaps Musichetta had been around for too long, perhaps it was woman's intuition, or perhaps it was just living with Joly and Bossuet that gave her an extra degree of knowledge, for she took in Fantine and before long Fantine was telling her everything.

How is one supposed to find her place in a hierarchy when there is no true hierarchy that's acknowledged?

"By finding a shared mind in more than just politics," Musichetta answered.

While Musichetta wasn't allowed to attend all the meetings, she did make it a habit to go to the Musain before and after them. Fantine would walk with her back home, telling her not of the meetings but of her day to day life, and in turn Musichetta shared stories with her of her own day. They were normal conversations, akin to every day female talks, or at least similar to the usual conversations that were bereft of politics that floated about the Musain between the boys. Fantine talked about what was important to her and Musichetta not only understood but could empathize.

"Difference doesn't mean inequality," Musichetta explained. "There are some things that males do not understand about us and may never understand. Likewise there are some things that we can never understand about them. They'll talk endlessly of rights and equality for those who are less fortunate. They'll speak of education for all, freedom of choice for all. Should they win said freedoms, it will be wonderful, but that won't eliminate the differences. And that's all right. It would be terribly boring to be the same. For instance." Musichetta paused and looked to Fantine. Closing the gap, Musichetta kissed her tenderly on the lips.

Fantine felt softness, gentleness. It was not the crush of a mouth against hers, but it was hardly lacking in passion. Her heart sped up and she wondered for a few seconds about Joly and Bossuet and wasn't Musichetta theirs? The thought was crushed in short time as Musichetta belonged to Musichetta. So why then did she feel a sense of belonging to her?

Musichetta stepped back. "Only women can truly know how to please other women."

Fantine could argue that she didn't know how to please anyone, but that would be a lie. She could please herself and had done so. Not often, but she had touched herself at night a few times. Her reasons for it always varied and they all seemed irrelevant now. Not while Musichetta was holding both her hands, not while Musichetta's gaze was holding her own.

"I don't want-" Fantine began, but cut herself off before she could explain. She didn't want to push too far just yet.

Musichetta understood. "Let's just talk for a time, shall we? I think I ought to explain my relationship with them and put things more into focus for us."

Fantine just nodded but she listened. She wasn't immune to the thrill that some gossip gave her. She liked knowledge of just about all kinds. Knowledge kept her alive. Knowledge was a weapon and the light of hope. Even petty bits of knowledge could keep her fed for a few days. Right now, the knowledge she was getting allowed her more insight into the love lives of three of her friends. She didn't know the term for it, but Musichetta made it sound both appealing and complicated. A world in which there was neither time nor need of jealousy. Where the three of them could swing one way or the other. Where they were all looked after, where the love was equal. Fantine could not complain to fully understand it all, but it sounded remarkably pleasant to her, not to mention out of her grasp. She had problems with only one lover. Dealing with two would probably explode in her face, leaving her more destitute and heartbroken.

Yet Musichetta sought to include her. Not with Joly and Bossuet, not if Fantine didn't wish to push that far. Fantine had been burned before in the past. She retained her memories of what she liked to call the 'before-land'. Still, she kept a great deal to herself. She would tell Musichetta about her lover who left, but not about the child she had given birth to. She would tell Musichetta about being tossed out of the factory and finding her way on the street, but she wouldn't tell her about the cough she had caught, nor about her own death. Such things were best kept in secret. Unlike all of them, she had the hidden knowledge of what may well happen afterward. This gave her more confidence when fighting with them all. Should the worst come about, perhaps they too would come about again.

But still, the lingering of the memories also brought a bitterness, a distrust of those who would be her lover. Musichetta wouldn't grant her an illegitimate child. Musichetta was safe, close within the circle of those Fantine called her friends. Friends that held different morals and values than what she was used to. Friends who ensured she always had a place to stay. And here was Musichetta, perhaps taking in another stray like Joly did with Bossuet. It wasn't just to warm a bed either, Fantine knew. Sometimes there was a time for equality and sometimes there was a time for differences.

The bond happened gradually. Fantine didn't want to think that things had changed between herself and Musichetta after their first kiss, but the change was there, impossible to ignore, but also impossible not to like. Their fingers interlocked, their hands would clasp, they would exchange looks from across the street. It wasn't long until many words were unnecessary in the company of others.

There was a natural lead of progression as there was in any relationship. Fantine, used to having walls, only noticed that many of them had been torn aside when Musichetta was within her personal space. They sometimes spoke of politics, sometimes of the past before Musichetta found Joly, before Fantine was found by the group. They spoke of men, Musichetta of her father who died too young, Fantine of a noble savior who made the most difficult choices in his life. They spoke of the horrors in their lives, Musichetta of gentlemen who thought to press advantage, Fantine of a policeman who stayed blinded in his classism. But most of all, the spoke of one another, not in sonnets or romantic terms, but in blunt and kind ways.

Fantine remembered back in her before-time when she was young and attended parties and had friends. It wasn't so difficult to take the feelings of belonging from back then and attribute it all to her present. She may not have been as financially well-off, but the friends she found were far more loyal than those before. She found herself loved by the Friends and in love with Musichetta.

When she finally let down her last guard and allowed Musichetta to lead her to the bedroom, no trace of her past concerning her other doomed lovers came to her mind. She found her peace not within heaven but within the arms of Musichetta and in the hearts of her friends.


End file.
